


What Does It Mean To Be An Amicitia?

by Hydro1913



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Funeral, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Moving On, Multi, Pain, Suicide Attempt, after the dawn, my emotions are completely shot, only pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 05:20:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30050499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydro1913/pseuds/Hydro1913
Summary: “Father, what do Amicitias do?”“You ask this every day, young Gladiolus.” His father chuckles. “It means you protect your chosen king. Always.”
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	What Does It Mean To Be An Amicitia?

**Author's Note:**

> **MIND THE TAGS**
> 
> **SUICIDE ATTEMPT WARNING**
> 
> **SPOILERS, SPOILERS, DON’T WARP STRIKE ME**
> 
> Once upon a time, I didn’t like Gladiolus Amicitia as much as the other chocobros.
> 
> I thought he was pretty callous for digging into Noctis so soon after Luna’s death, and for pushing Prompto in the face, and overall being angry all the time whenever Noctis went too far ahead on their missions.
> 
> But overtime, I really got to understand that he was trying his best, in his own way.
> 
> He had to get Noctis’s head out of his ass, to do what he had to do.
> 
> Even if it meant getting on his bad side.
> 
> In the end, Gladiolus was trying to look out for everyone.
> 
> All the time.
> 
> The bigger picture.
> 
> And that’s what made me realize I love him just as much as everyone else.
> 
> So I dedicate this fic to him, it might as well be his early birthday fic, haha.
> 
> I feel so drained. XD
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

Gladiolus takes the Sword of the Father in both of his hands. He closes his eyes, clenches the metal, and pulls with any strength that was left in his tired body.

He pulls, and it’s finally freed.

And the King is tugged forward with the force of it, but he falls into Prompto’s chest.

And Gladiolus could see the burst of dried blood across the gunner’s cheek.

He drops the sword like it burned him.

It clatters away, and it glints in the new sunlight, it glints and Gladiolus could think it was taunting him.

He can’t move.

He can’t move, he watches as Ignis brushes the hair out of the King’s face, it’s dirty and matted, his eyes were closed, he’s completely limp, Prompto doesn’t even hold him, his arms were dropped completely to his sides, his eyes are wide, there are still tears pouring out of them. 

He doesn’t scream again.

Ignis drops to the floor, his knees thud against the stone. His expression, from what Gladiolus could see of it, was broken.

It was broken.

And it’s a quiet, a quiet, a silence, the wind blows through the broken walls of the Citadel.

Ignis shatters into pieces.

And Gladiolus watches as he doubles over himself, palm still on the King’s cheek, holding his face still so tenderly, softly.

Then he presses his lips to the King’s face, buries his face in his shoulder, and his sob rings through the hall.

He’s shouting something but it’s muffled, until Gladiolus strains to hear it and he realizes what he says, his heart sinks into his stomach and past, it fades, it dies, it becomes nothing.

It’s just a cold pit, gaping and breaking.

“You  _ promised _ .”

It rises in pitch, in a frenzy, in a storm Gladiolus can’t name.

“You  _ promised _ , you said you wouldn’t leave - why, why did you-“

Ignis brings a fist back, and drives it into the throne.

There’s a resounding crack, a gasp comes out of Ignis’s throat and Prompto starts whimpering, Gladiolus finally finds it in himself to move, to get down, take them into his arms, Prompto clings to him and he shakes apart, and Ignis strikes his fists at Gladiolus’s chest like it’s the only thing that he wanted to destroy, it was the thing he hated the most, and Gladiolus lets himself be that.

He can’t blame Ignis for how he felt.

Neither can he blame Prompto.

So he lets Prompto hide in the crook of his elbow, lets Ignis take out his pain, even when Gladiolus starts to bruise, even if it feels like everything in him wants to collapse.

The blows stop after a while, and Ignis is defeated, slumping against Gladiolus and staring into nothing.

Gladiolus takes in a breath.

He doesn’t cry.

...

In the end, he holds the body.

He walks down the stairs with it.

Remembers when he was just alive, walking along without a care in the world on these very steps.

Prompto and Ignis are at his sides, completely silent. Every step they take is slow, and Gladiolus matches their pace.

He pretends that it’s just a civilian in his grasp, unfortunately daemonified, will have to explain to their family. Something he’s done before.

There’s people outside, Kingsglaive, many holding each other, many on the ground, in tears, staring up at the light. 

Their cries of joy should have warmed something in Gladiolus. They do nothing.

Then he sees movement in the throng of relieved faces.

Cor.

Then Iris.

Talcott.

His sister’s eyes widen when she sees who’s in his arms, and she’s rushing forward, grasping at the lifeless hand, whispering his name, and then she’s falling onto the steps, wrapping her arms around herself.

Talcott is absolutely frozen, and his tears come from his eyes, in streams down his cheeks, and Gladiolus could for a second still see a child there, what Talcott once was, lost without anyone to guide him.

And Cor looked at the body with an expression that was almost unreadable, but Gladiolus could see the knit in his eyebrows, how his jaw tightened. He thinks he sees a glistening in the court marshal’s eyes as he steps forward, and he brings a palm up to the King’s head.

His own sign of affection.

And then he moves his head in a way that is familiar, and he turns to go back down the steps.

Gladiolus follows him, and in his periphery, Prompto and Ignis follow too.

Iris manages to catch up, still sniffling, Talcott is just a beat behind her.

The Kingsglaive finally see them.

At first, there was silence.

Silence as Gladiolus passes by them, every step felt like lead in his feet.

Then, they whisper.

Gladiolus pulls the body closer to him, keeps his head down, as they get louder and louder.

And then, it’s like a wave passes through them. They fall quiet once more.

And then they kneel.

Everyone, on one knee, their heads bowed. The action spreads across the masses, Gladiolus can hear several prayers, several sounds of tears.

And he hears a low rumble, it gets louder, louder in volume, as they grow more confident.

“Thank you-“

“Thank you-“

“Thank you so much-“

“Thank you, King-“

“Noctis-“

“Noctis-“

“Noctis-“

“Thank you, King Noctis, for bringing back the Light.”

“Thank you, King Noctis-“ 

“Thank you, King Noctis-“

“For bringing back the Light.”

“-the Light.”

It should have been beautiful.

It should have been hopeful, it should have been so honorable.

Gladiolus tries his best to stand up straight as he walks through the crowd, beats down the wave of tears that threaten to take over, even as Prompto starts sobbing again, even when Ignis bows his head.

...

They lay him down on a bed in an abandoned hotel.

Fold his hands over each other.

Cor produces a damp handkerchief, dabbing away the dirt.

Gladiolus can barely bring himself to look at him still.

The court marshal speaks, his voice sounds too loud for the silence. 

“With the Light’s return, people will be coming back in, hoping to look for new places to stay, they’ll start rebuilding.”

He pauses.

Looks at Gladiolus.

“The funeral can be small. I will make it so.”

Gladiolus can’t say anything. He nods.

“It’s the least I can do.”

And Cor takes a flask from his pocket, uncorks it, he pours it over the King.

Gladiolus watches as a blue light emits, splashing away in tiny pinpricks.

“It will hold until he’s in the ground,” Cor explains.

Then he dips his head.

“Your sacrifice...” he starts, and Gladiolus can hear how his voice deepens, how it shakes. 

He can see the tears that bead in the other’s eyes. 

The court marshal closes them, letting the liquid slip down.

“Your sacrifice will not be in vain.”

And there’s a hush in the room.

Cor straightens up.

“You may rest here,” he states, and his voice is back to normal, authoritative, clear. “I will be outside, if you need me. To watch the proceedings.”

And his heels click along the floor, down the hall. The door opens with a creak, Gladiolus could hear voices outside, and then it closes.

Iris falls to her knees again. She rests her head on the bed, she’s sobbing into the sheets. Talcott joins her, his hand on her shoulder. 

Gladiolus looks at Ignis and Prompto.

They stand there, they don’t move. It’s like they have no life left in them.

Gladiolus feels like he’s died.

He forces himself to move.

At first, towards them.

But they looked so fragile. Gladiolus realizes he’s doesn’t want Prompto crying again if he touched him. He doesn’t want Ignis hitting him as hard as he could again.

And Gladiolus changes his direction, walking out into the hallway. He goes the opposite of Cor’s route, further into the hotel.

It’s dark. The power most likely doesn’t work. There’s dust hanging in the air. Gladiolus feels a cough starting to form in his lungs, he stifles it.

He walks, and walks, and walks. He walks farther, and farther away.

From that room. From the people in it. From him.

He walks, and walks and his steps keep growing heavier.

He turns the corner. There’s still paintings on the walls. The Kings of Yore loom above him.

And then he sees an open door.

Doesn’t think twice, just steps through.

Recognizes the objects on the shelves, the stands, the armor.

He reaches for the sword that is leaned against the wall.

Closes his eyes.

He is in Duscae, they are about to go in a tunnel. He keeps his arm thrown wide, keeping his prince back.

He hears Deadeye’s roar.

And he brings his sword up, and fights.

...

_ Gladiolus dodges the swing, blocks it, puts enough force behind it to send his opponent sprawling. _

_ The prince falls onto the floor with a startled grunt, Gladiolus points his wooden sword at the other’s chest. _

_ “Are you even trying?” _

_ Something flashes in the prince’s eyes, and then suddenly he’s up again. _

_ Gladiolus stifles a surprised noise and he barely deflects this blow, and the next, it takes a moment, too long of a moment for him to regain his balance, and he only barely manages to send the other to the ground again. _

_ Their breathing is heavy, the prince’s eyes were glowing. His mouth widens into this startled smile, surprised at his luck. _

_ Gladiolus feels a bit of an annoyed sting. _

...

_ “How are you getting along with the prince?” _

_ Gladiolus says, with as much restrained annoyance as possible, “We are agreeable.” _

_ His father eyes him skeptically. “That is what someone would say on command.” _

_ Gladiolus ends up sighing. _

_ “I’m trying my best, Father.” _

_ “As you always do.” His father nods. He turns to the front again, watching as the councilmen filed in to take their seats. “A lively boy, is he not? A personality like Regis’s.” _

_ Gladiolus doesn’t quite know what that means, but he nods anyway. _

_... _

_ He wasn’t there when it happened. _

_ To be specific, he was in the Citadel when it happened. The sound of a phone ringing, coming from Gladiolus’s father’s robes. _

_ Clarus Amicitia looks at the screen with a confused expression, Gladiolus sits up straighter in his seat, Iris falls silent. _

_ The Shield of the King presses the device to his ear. And then he surges up, chair skidding backwards. Gladiolus and Iris stare at him. _

_ Their father’s face is ashen, his jaw tense. He rushes to the doors at the end of the hall. He pushes them open with twin bangs. _

_ It takes a moment for Gladiolus to realize he has gotten up as well, his knife gripped tightly. _

_ He was ready to fight on instinct. _

_ He turns to his sister, she’s watching him with wide eyes. _

_ “Gladdy?” _

_ “Stay here, Iris,” Gladiolus gets out. He turns on his heel, sprints to the doors, shoves them open with his shoulder- _

_ Crownsguard, Kingsglaive, soldiers of all kinds, colliding into him. He’s tall enough that they don’t bowl him over, and he cuts through the crowd to press himself against the wall. _

_ He can hear through the throng people shouting orders, they’re shouting about a daemon, a powerful one, it had broken through the Wall- _

_ Gladiolus’s eyes widen. How? _

_ He joins the crowd as they sprint through the building, Gladiolus looks for his father, he looks for the king, any superior he should answer to- _

_ He sees Ignis Scientia. The personal assistant to the prince. His caretaker. _

_ The retainer hides in the corner, there’s a Glaive leaning down, a hand on his shoulder, nearly shouting in his face. Scientia responds in frantic nods or with shakes of his head, his hands tremble as one of them grips the frame of his glasses. _

_ The Glaive leaves and Gladiolus is there, sliding in front of Scientia. The retainer recognizes him, there’s a widening of his eyes, his voice comes out, shaky and hurried. _

_ “I, I told that soldier that the prince might be in the area of the daemon - he had to let the King know - I froze up in fear, I am sorry, Mister Amicitia-“ _

_ Gladiolus hears a roaring in his ears, he grabs Scientia’s arm, pulls him along.  _

_ “‘T’s fine, you did good, let’s keep moving just in case the king didn’t hear it, in that case you need to tell him-“ _

_ They reach the main hall. Gladiolus stops in front of one of the servants, has to shout over the noise of people clamoring behind him. He hasn’t let go of Scientia’s arm. _

_ The servant is recoiling under Gladiolus’s gaze, but at least he still stammers out complete sentences, explains that King Regis and his Shield have already left, already have organized a team of soldiers and set out without a breath to spare. _

_ Gladiolus pulls Scientia to a nearby pillar after they got their answer, they slump against it, making themselves as small as possible as people rushed by them, they wait with bated breath. _

_ It feels like hours, days, when the doors slam back open and the king is rushing in, his Crownsguard following just a moment later, then a flash of blue as he warps again, and again, past Scientia and Gladiolus down the hall, in the direction of the medical wing. _

_ Gladiolus sees a mop of dark hair, a round face streaked with blood, hidden in the king’s arms, and his stomach sinks. _

_ Scientia is already bursting away from his side, and Gladiolus can’t even stop him, he’s racing after the king, Gladiolus can see the prince’s name fall from the retainer’s lips. _

_ He stays where he is, thinks of blue eyes and surprised smiles and lost balances. _

_ He doesn’t move. _

...

_ A few days later, after several hours of pacing in his room, Gladiolus knocks lightly on the door he has been staring at for the past hour. He straightens his back. Fully prepared to have to look up at a pair of eyes at a higher level. _

_ Except when the door opens, it opens slowly, hesitantly, and when Gladiolus finds no pairs of eyes, he looks down, glasses glint at him. _

_ Scientia searches Gladiolus’s gaze in question. There’s no fear in the retainer’s eyes, a calm and cool judgement instead, it’s welcomed after the incident a few days ago. _

_ Gladiolus could feel a little respect beginning to grow. Scientia seemed like him. Dutiful to the letter. _

_ “I just wanted to see him,” Gladiolus says softly. “If that’s okay.” _

_ Scientia blinks at him. Then he turns his head over his shoulder, as if assessing the room behind him. He looks back to Gladiolus, presses a finger to his lips, and opens the door fully. _

_ Gladiolus heeds the silent order and steps in as quietly as he can. The room is dim, the curtains were drawn which just slivers of light peeking through the fabric. There was a bookshelf in the corner, most of its contents looking like thick volumes. There was a clock, Gladiolus could hear it tick.  _

_ There were two beds, one empty but unmade, wrinkles apparent, and the other was occupied. _

_ Gladiolus looks at his prince. His eyes were closed, his head rests on a blue pillow. The blanket on him reaches towards his neck, covering the rest of his body. Gladiolus brings his eyes back to the prince’s face. Can see the scrapes and bruises from the daemon. Can see the cut on his forehead, it was slowly starting to heal. _

_ Gladiolus looks towards the statue of a creature he doesn’t recognize, sitting on the the nightstand next to the prince’s head. He looks up at the glowing symbols that float above the bed, every once in a while one of them would glow, and when that happened the entire procession of them slowly spinning around would increase speed, then slow as the symbol’s light faded once more. _

_ Gladiolus looks towards the figure on the side of the prince’s bed. He recognizes his king, he immediately bows deep. _

_ The king sees him as he straightens up again, and he gives him a tight smile. He suddenly looks years older, there’s frown lines on his forehead, a couple of gray hairs. _

_ “Hello, Gladiolus.” _

_ Gladiolus nods mutely, not sure what to say as he watches the leader of his kingdom clutch at his son’s hand with both of his own, bringing it up to his forehead. He murmurs something. _

_ He was praying. _

_ There was a lump in Gladiolus’s throat, and it felt hard to swallow down.  _

_ He probably shouldn’t be looking at this. _

_ He backs away towards the door. Looks at the prince again, how small he looked, how pale. Looks at the king, looks how tightly he holds his son. Looks at Scientia, finds the other staring at him with inquisitive eyes. _

_ Gladiolus nods at him, and he steps out. _

_ Thoughts whirl through his head. _

_ How sickly the prince looked. How worried the king seemed to be. How the prince laid so still. How the king seemed to be so, so sad. _

_ He finds himself in the training room. _

_ Only a couple soldiers were there, spotting each other. They look his way only once. _

_ Gladiolus looks toward his practice sword in the corner. At the sword next to it. _

_ He sits down on one of the benches. _

_ Thinks of widened eyes and swords clashing. _

_ There’s a burning in his stomach. A burning that amplifies every time he thinks of that body under the blankets, just a small rise and fall of his chest.  _

_ He looked so...defenseless. Gladiolus feels like grabbing at him, shaking him, telling to snap out of it. Get the sword in the corner and come at Gladiolus. Don’t just lie there. _

_ And the realization comes to hit Gladiolus like a wave.  _

_ He didn’t like seeing him like that. _

_ His blood thrums under his veins, his palms are sweaty, his heart pounds. _

_ He thinks that he should have been there. In front of the prince. If that meant the prince wasn’t going to be lying in a bed near death, Gladiolus would have fought that daemon. _

_ He closes his eyes. _

_ A memory surfaces.  _

_ “Father, what do Amicitias do?” _

_ “You ask this every day, young Gladiolus.” His father chuckles. “It means you protect your chosen king. Always.” _

...

_ The sound of a door opening is what snaps Gladiolus out of his daze. He looks up subconsciously. _

_ Scientia is there. He looks around the room almost shyly, before his eyes settle on Gladiolus. The soldiers have already packed and left. _

_ Gladiolus stares at him as he comes over. His footsteps echo in the hall. He walks not too fast, but with purpose. _

_ He stops in front of Gladiolus. Looks from his eyes to the bench and back. _

_ So Gladiolus slides over to create space. Scientia sits down, primly, properly.  _

_ “Is everything okay?” _

_ “Yes.” Scientia rubs the rim of his glasses between his fingers again. “I just came to talk to you. The king is still watching over him. I will go back and he will get some rest.” _

_ “Alright.” _

_ A silence falls between them, just for a few seconds. Gladiolus mulls over the other’s words. Scientia seems to be contemplating how to start. _

_ Gladiolus opens his mouth first. “What’d you want to talk to me about?” _

_ Scientia stops fiddling with his glasses. He takes in this deep breath. And then he’s turning, dipping his head, it’s awkward as he was still sitting down, and Gladiolus confusedly hums. _

_ “I want to thank you, for taking me to see the king, to get my word out about the prince, even if it was not required anymore. I do not know what I would have done without you. I would have stayed frozen. So I give you my greatest thanks.” _

_ Scientia says it formally, with such sincerity. His eyes don’t stray from Gladiolus’s. He means it. _

_ Gladiolus resists the urge to scratch at his neck.  _

_ “Uh, you’re welcome but, I didn’t really do anything. I kind of was just running around to figure things out. I was chasing my dad. I didn’t even know where the prince was, but you did. You paid attention to him, more than me. So thank you, too.” _

_ Scientia takes a beat or two, regarding Gladiolus, before he smiles a little. _

_ A really, really tiny one. But it was there. _

_ Gladiolus takes in a breath. He notices the other’s eyes were a brilliant green, still visible through the glasses. A little late to realize that, but he hasn’t really quite got the chance to look at him. _

_ “You...care about the prince a lot, right?” _

_ Scientia nods, without any hesitation. “Of course.” _

_ Gladiolus looks down at his legs. There’s a feeling inside him he can’t quite explain. Curiosity? To know what that feels like? _

_ “Since you were six, right?” _

_ “Well, officially, yes. But I still had to undergo training.” _

_ Scientia looks out across the room. Gladiolus can see his eyes study the ellipticals in the corner. _

_ “I came into his service fully just over eight months ago. Just a little before meeting you, in fact.” _

_ Scientia suddenly giggles a little, and Gladiolus sees his eyes flash, playfully. _

_ “He said you were terrifying.” _

_ “Wh-huh?!” _

_ “As I quote: ‘Iggy, Mister Gladio seems scary! I don’t really like him at all...’” _

_ “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” _

_ “I am.” _

_ At Gladiolus’s startled expression, Scientia covers his mouth with his fist, but his grin still peeks out. _

_ “He does complain about you, but he always talks about how he wants you to like him.” _

_ “You-you’re serious?” _

_ “Why would I lie?” _

_ Gladiolus thankfully doesn’t stutter again. “True.” _

_ He scratches at his neck now. _

_ Another moment of silence passes.  _

_ Scientia swings his legs back and forth a little. He seems a bit more relaxed. It’s confirmed when he turns his head towards Gladiolus again. _

_ “He is very, very kind.” _

_ His smile fades a little, just a fraction. _

_ “I wish this did not happen to him.” _

_ And Gladiolus could only nod now. _

_ They sit there, in each other’s company, they say nothing else. _

_ Gladiolus thinks about the look on his father’s face when he got the call. How the king touches the prince like he is the only thing in the world that matters. He thinks of how Scientia had smiled when he talked about him. _

_ He thinks he understands, a little more, on what it means to protect someone. _

...

It’s darker in the room. Much darker. Gladiolus stares up at the ceiling. There’s jagged lines in the cement. Pieces of lining hanging down.

He didn’t sleep.

His eyes won’t close.

He lies there, the bench he rests on creaks from underneath him, he feels like he will never move again.

But he forces himself to sit up. Drops the sword on the floor.

Counts in fours, focuses on his breathing.

His hands shake. He clenches them, tightly, almost painfully. 

Breathe in, hold. Breathe out, hold.

Digs his nails into his skin.

Repeat.

Again, and again.

I am Gladiolus Amicitia.

I am Gladiolus Amicitia.

Gladiolus.

Amicitia.

Amicitia.

He finally stands.

...

They bump into each other in the hallway. Gladiolus catches Ignis’s shoulder before they collided. He’s a bit startled; most of the time, it was Ignis who would have sensed it, from a little further away.

But Ignis stands there, his visor off. His eyes were sunken, there’s a dark look to them. Gladiolus knows immediately that he hasn’t slept. He tilts his face up to Gladiolus, and without a word, he walks past him, down the hallway Gladiolus came from, swallowed up by the dark.

Gladiolus watches him go.

Beats pass. Gladiolus breathes in and out again.

He walks into the first room again. Steels his face into stone as he looks over the body, over the blue glow the preservation spell was emitting, sees Prompto.

He was curled up, on the other bed, sitting upright, but his arms were wrapped across his knees, his face buried in them.

Gladiolus nearly thinks he’s asleep. But his head raises, he sees Gladiolus. His lips quirk for a second, as if instinctively trying to smile. But it falls away, collapsing.

He just looks at Gladiolus.

Just looks.

Nothing else. No other movements. Nothing in his expression. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Gladiolus steps forward carefully.

He thinks of holding him again.

Would Prompto want that?

The weight of being in this room again is too much. Gladiolus feels heavier every step he walked. 

He stops, and stares at the floor. He can’t say anything still. Maybe his voice will fade away.

He hears the door open, and his head snaps up.

He holds out his hand instinctively, but - 

It’s just Cor.

And he couldn’t call Armiger.

Of course.

The marshal nods at him, looks at Prompto. Looks at the body. 

“Where are the others?”

Gladiolus’s voice still works, as it turns out. He forces himself to meet Cor’s gaze. “Ignis is probably in the kitchen.”

He had seen it, he remembered. It was on the way to the training room he found.

“Iris and Talcott, I don’t really-“

“They’re asleep.”

Prompto’s voice is quiet.

Gladiolus and Cor look towards him.

“About an hour ago. One of the rooms downstairs.”

Gladiolus’s chest aches.

“I see,” Cor responds.

He turns towards Prompto. Walks, without pause, up to the blond.

Puts his hands on his shoulders.

And Prompto cracks.

He cracks like the crystal when Gladiolus tried to force himself in as its glow slowly died.

He cracks like the ice left behind in the train.

He cracks, he cracks like the stones at the edge of a cliff, they fall, they thud, no pieces can come back together.

He cries into Cor’s embrace.

Gladiolus realizes he can’t go to him this time.

He feels like a statue. 

Frozen in place.

He turns his back on them, stares at the wall. The only light comes from the magic behind him, from that temporary resting place.

He swallows.

He will not cry.

Don’t.

Don’t cry.

Amicitia.

...

_ The prince was quiet. So quiet. _

_ Gladiolus can hear the clock ticking as he sits by him. _

_ The prince stares up at the ceiling. He can only sit up for a matter of minutes. There’s sweat on his forehead. _

_ He cried about how it hurt just a few minutes ago. Screamed and cried and the nurse had shushed him and injected him with a painkiller. _

_ He now stares blearily up at the ceiling. _

_ Gladiolus prefers this to him asleep. He looked too lifeless when he was. The statue of the strange animal seemed to glow when he was as well. Like it kept him tethered. It scared Gladiolus. _

_ “Mister Gladio?” the prince mumbles, turning his head. _

_ “Hm?” _

_ “You look kind of weird.” _

_ He’ll blame it on the meds. _

_ “Does it matter if I do?” _

_ “Nah, not really.” _

_ “Well, there’s an answer.” _

_ “I’ve never seen you smile.” _

_ Gladiolus stares at him. _

_ “What?” _

_ “Maybe I gotta do something for you so you can.” _

_ “Your Majesty-?” _

_ The boy falls asleep again, his words about his future ideas, things Gladiolus doesn’t quite really hear, slurring. _

_... _

_ The prince hasn’t smiled in the longest time. _

_ He’s been taken off the medicine, and out of bed. Now in a wheelchair, he spends most of his days being pushed around by Ignis, and if time allowed it, his father. _

_ But he hasn’t smiled. Nor laughed. Neither. Keeps quiet, barely his old self. _

_ Gladiolus watches him from afar, sees how Ignis sets down his plate in front of him, urging him to eat a little. _

_ He thinks about when he looked over the prince, when neither the king or Ignis can’t, how many nightmares he had to wake him up from, often crying, often hoarse from screaming. _

_ He can see the prince wince in pain every now and then, and he’s sure it hasn’t gone unnoticed by anyone else. _

_ A few days go by of this, and Ignis comes to find Gladiolus again, in the training room. _

_ “The king wants to take him to Tenebrae.” _

_ “Isn’t that the Oracle’s place?” _

_ “Yes. He would like to bring the prince there, for healing, for good luck.” _

_ Ignis looks to the soldiers doing reps, twenty, thirty. _

_ “He will...have a limp, most likely. Once he walks again.” _

_ Gladiolus freezes in place. Can see tears start to bead in Ignis’s eyes. Wraps one arm around him silently, squeezes. _

_ “Just think about now. Tenebrae should be fun.” _

_ Ignis curves his lip at him again, takes off his glasses to wipe his face on his sleeve. “Don’t forget you are coming along too, after all, you are to be his Shield. We could use some protection.” _

_ “Of course, with everything I’ve got.” _

...

_ He actually doesn’t see much of the prince while they had their trip there. His father explained to him that it was more of a precaution they came along. He wasn’t actually on duty or anything. It was more of practicing how to orient oneself in a foreign place. _

_ But Gladiolus notices the sylleblossom fields, how they spread out across the valley. Remembers how the Crownsguard had stared in awe.  _

_ The prince, whenever he saw him, seemed to glow a little brighter. He sees the princess, Princess Lunafreya, pushing him around in his wheelchair without much trouble, she says something to him and he actually smiles. _

_ And Gladiolus realizes he missed it. How his cheeks pushed up and his eyes sparkled. _

_ Ignis follows just a little behind, and Gladiolus could see the relief in his face. _

_ Good. This was good. _

_... _

  
  


_ Wish it wasn’t cut so short. _

_ They were already out of Tenebrae when Gladiolus manages to get to the prince’s side, taking out the real sword he brought, Ignis holds the prince in his lap and Gladiolus leans over them in the car, ready to fight anything and everything. _

_ The magitek soldiers never reached them, but Gladiolus focuses on that thrum in his veins, on that smile in his head, lets the adrenaline rush through him.  _

_ I am Amicitia. _

_... _

_ The prince has changed. _

_ But maybe it isn’t like he changed, more like he’s shifted. _

_ There’s a quieter air to him now. Not that much of loud energy anymore. He stared off into space more often. _

_ Gladiolus would notice him in the gardens, sometimes with a maid, sometimes with Ignis. _

_ Ignis always walked beside him, but the maid, most of the time, tried to offer her hand to him, but he would refuse it. Gladiolus understands that. He’s fine on his own, doesn’t need help. _

_ He can see the limp, in his left leg. _

_ Gladiolus often wants to forget that he knows. _

_... _

_ Training was now usually the most uncomfortable part of Gladiolus’s everyday routine. _

_ He suspects it was the same situation for the prince. _

_ He does nearly as well as he did before his attack, which is to say that Gladiolus still knocks him on his butt multiple times. _

_ But most of the time he doesn’t get back up, just makes this annoyed grunt and crosses his legs on the floor, it takes Gladiolus several pokes to the prince’s side with his sword and several held back verbal jabs to get the other standing up and going again. _

_ It felt like they were going nowhere, and Gladiolus would like to say he could keep going, he was patient, but he was feeling closer to the end of his rope every day. _

_ ... _

_ He was going to wring this prince, royalty or social status be damned. _

_ He starts his push-ups, grumbling the entire time. _

_ Astrals damn him, he makes sure he says it inside his head, he doesn’t want his father coming in and hearing him say that, especially not about his prince. _

_ He really had the nerve to take his sister out just like that. Just like that! Had Gladiolus running around worried and feeling like he was going to puke and it was because of him! _

_ He’s going to run him into the ground. _

_ “Gladdy?” _

_ “What?” _

_ Iris’s voice is soft. _

_ But Gladiolus listens. _

_... _

_ So that is what Ignis meant by the prince’s kindness. _

_ He took the blame for Iris. _

_ Gladiolus watches the prince as he hunches over his homework. _

_ It feels as if something changed. No more frustration, no more feeling like he will never really like him. _

_ Gladiolus does like the prince. A lot. _

...

It’s on the second day, Prompto finally sleeps.

Gladiolus roused him awake after finding him nodding off, led him downstairs to another room they had cleaned out, so there was barely any dust. It was also the room across from Iris’s and Talcott’s, and Gladiolus could see his sister, staring at nothing as he helped Prompto take off his boots.

The gunner doesn’t say any words, just lies down when Gladiolus pushes on his chest, his eyes close, his hands clench at the blankets.

Gladiolus brushes the hair away from his face. He hasn’t tried to put it up. Not since what happened. Gladiolus bends down, kisses his forehead.

He’s hard to look at.

And then he leaves.

...

They have canned beans in the kitchen. Ignis’s head tilts up as Gladiolus gets close, and he hands him a container. 

He eats it, slowly. Not to savor it. It’s more like he just didn’t want to.

But he has to.

“I got him to lie down.”

The other nods slowly. 

“You should sleep too.”

Ignis nods again.

Gladiolus lets their shoulders touch.

Can feel the pain, the deep ache in Ignis. 

Amicitia, Gladiolus tells himself. Amicitia.

...

He checks up on Prompto. Sees Ignis next to him.

Watches as Prompto shifts in his sleep, his eyebrows draw together. Whatever he’s dreaming, it hurt him.

Ignis rolls over, his arm goes over Prompto and his face nuzzles into Prompto’s neck.

The blond relaxes again.

...

When Gladiolus lies on the bench in the training room again, his heart pounding and his muscles sore from swinging his sword, that’s when he finally drifts off.

...

_ “How long have you been doing this?” _

_ Ignis doesn’t flinch, Gladiolus isn’t surprised that he doesn’t. He’s stronger than everyone ever credited him for. _

_ “It has been about two months.” _

_ “Two months of this?!” _

_ The prince twitches between them. _

_ Gladiolus lowers his voice. _

_ “You both could have gotten hurt.” _

_ “I am well aware of that.” _

_ “So then, why?” _

_ “Because I wanted to, Gladio!” _

_ The prince’s voice tears the two of them apart from each other. _

_ His eyes were a burning cobalt, the light from them coming like the armiger. He glares at Gladiolus with a ferocity he’s never seen. _

_ “I never leave home anymore. It’s getting absolutely boring around here, Dad always seems sad whenever he sees me, I know I’ve been hurt and you all want to keep me safe, but it feels like I’m trapped, and I’ll never get what I want again, and how was I supposed to know I would get hurt? No one saw that daemon coming.” _

_ He breathes in. _

_ “I don’t want that stopping me from ever going outside again!” _

_ A pause. _

_ “I thought you would get that, Gladio.” _

_ He’s dropped the ‘Mister’, Gladiolus realizes. _

_ “I...” _

_ “Anyway.” _

_ The prince turns on his heel, walking down the hallway. _

_ “Let’s go, Iggy.” _

_ The retainer heeds his call immediately, but he looks over his shoulder at Gladiolus. _

_ And Gladiolus clenches his teeth. _

_ Struggles a bit between right and wrong, shield and sword.  _

_ What does an Amicitia do? _

_ He runs after them. _

...

Days past like this:

Gladiolus gets up from the bench every morning.

He tries to clean his teeth in the mirror the best he can, with a bottle of water.

He wakes up Ignis and Prompto, Iris and Talcott.

They eat together, or they eat alone.

Most of the time, Gladiolus eats alone.

Cor comes around every day, bringing news of repairs and house sweepings. He steps inside that room with the blue glow every day, always steps out somber, but he never stops.

After he leaves Gladiolus never sticks around either, he comes back to the training room. Trains all day, all afternoon, all evening. Whatever few belongings he has left have come to rest here.

Deadeye dies again and again in his mind.

I am your sworn Shield.

Amicitia.

...

_ “Look, you don’t want to move too fast!” _

_ “What exactly is too fast?” _

_ “Be patient!” _

_ Gladiolus scowls. He thinks he rather appreciates being the teacher. _

_ But the prince’s eyes were sparkling again, as he guided Gladiolus with his hands, telling him to adjust his grip on his fishing rod. _

_ Fishing is really not for him. He really cannot stare at a rippling body of water for hours on end. _

_ But it’s worth sitting through, if the prince is happy at least. _

...

_ “Hey, Gladio, Iggy?” _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ “Yes, Your Highness?” _

_ It’s a quiet night. The prince had begged him to sleep over. They were currently lying on the floor in the prince’s room, and Gladiolus stares up at the chandelier. Ignis had joined them as well. _

_ “You guys got any friends at school?” _

_ “Uh, yeah, I guess.” _

_ “I have quite a few.” _

_ “Why you asking?” _

_ “Everyone seems scared of me. They kind of just stare at me a lot. When people talk to me they always want prince stuff, then they laugh a lot, then run away.” _

_ The prince sighs up at the ceiling. _

_ “That’s not what friends do, right?” _

_ Gladiolus and Ignis lock gazes. They’re not quite sure what to say. _

_ “I asked Dad why he sent me to a real school. Well, it’s a lot better than a maid talking to me. In school I’m with a lot of kids. Maybe that’s why. But, it’s still pretty lonely.” _

_ The prince pokes Gladiolus in the side. _

_ “Hey, it looks like I’m scarier than you.” _

_ “Okay, you couldn’t be more wrong.” _

...

_ They turned the lights off maybe about half an hour ago. Gladiolus listens to the others’ breathing, they’re still awake.  _

_ From where he’s lying, he can see Ignis’s glasses, folded neatly beside his pillow. _

_ “Hey, when someone finally stops being scared of you and becomes your friend, introduce them.” _

_ The prince shifts from his sleeping bag.  _

_ “So I can show them you, the scarier one?” _

_ “Nah, that’s Iggy.” _

_ A pillow comes from the mentioned retainer’s direction and smacks him in the face, and their giggles burst out, before they rush to muffle them. _

...

He decided today he’s going to accompany Cor.

The marshal raises his eyebrows a little as he tells him this, after the former had done the usual rounds. Gladiolus doesn’t miss the way his eyes flick behind him, obviously thinking of everyone else.

Gladiolus doesn’t want to think about them right now. Doesn’t want to think about how Ignis and Prompto have barely moved in days.

Cor finally nods his head. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

He helps clean houses with a few other Kingsglaive members.

Anything still edible, it goes into the store. Same with anything that could be drank. He finds stray weapons sometimes. Photographs. Those go in the lost and found.

It keeps Gladiolus moving, reminds him of when he set up that tent, how that was his job.

A surge of pain goes through him.

Amicitia, Amicitia. Stop. Don’t think.

...

_ “There’s this kid at my school.” _

_ “Uh-huh.” _

_ Gladiolus blocks the blow that comes his way, turns to face the prince as the other jumps away with his sword. _

_ “He’s got glasses, like Iggy. But he’s blond, and he seems really shy. He fell over today, and I helped him up.” _

_ The prince scratches at his ear. _

_ “I don’t know his name though.” _

_ Gladiolus nods once, tries to picture this boy in his head. _

_ “Maybe you’ll see him again.” _

_ The prince nods, almost anxiously.  _

...

_ “You write the division sign like this.” _

_ The prince groans again, balances the pencil on his nose. “This is boring.” _

_ “Yeah, well you still gotta do it.” _

_ “Wow, I am motivated.” _

_ Gladiolus bops him on the head. “Treat it like training.” _

_ “So you’re my teacher again?” _

_ “Iggy’s probably better at this than me.” _

_ “So you admit you don’t have any brains?” _

_ Gladiolus tackles him. _

_... _

_ “So what’s on your mind now? You’re going quiet.” _

_ “Nah, I’m just, um, just thinking about...Luna.” _

_ Gladiolus’s grin turns lecherous. _

_ “Jeez, shut up.” _

_ “I didn’t say anything.” _

_ The prince stares up at the ceiling. Throws his pillow up. Catches it. Throws it up again, misses, it tumbles off the couch. _

_ Gladiolus catches it this time. _

_ “I’m just wondering how she’s doing. Like, all the time. It doesn’t help when we can only talk through a book.” _

_ Gladiolus tosses it to him. “You’ve got a special situation.” _

_ “Yeah. I miss the flowers.” _

_ Gladiolus doesn’t really say anything to that, because he’s too busy noticing the wistful look in the prince’s eyes, how his hands clench the pillow a little, how he looks at Gladiolus, then at the book in his hands, Umbra nuzzling into his side. _

...

_ The first thing Gladiolus does when he sees the apartment, with its shining floors, spacious room, and curtained windows, is let out a deep whistle. _

_ He turns to the prince, can see the awe dancing in his eyes, how his mouth widens into a grin. “I am gonna trash this place.” _

_ “Not on my watch, you won’t.” Ignis pushes up his glasses, already scanning the kitchen in the back, and Gladiolus laughs. _

_ It was perfect. _

...

“The showers should work now. Use only an hour for them every other day, if that’s possible. Some people should...most likely, shower together.”

Everyone nods. Some, once, like Prompto and Talcott. Iris and Ignis twice. Gladiolus nods three times.

Cor looks them each in the eye, then takes his leave.

Gladiolus looks to the others.

It’s strange how normal this became. But they all had to do it. It just was an every day thing, since the Night fell, for the eight years it stayed.

“I’ll go,” he says.

Talcott murmurs something, it sounds like “I’ll wait.”

Iris doesn’t say anything. 

Ignis seems in his own world.

Prompto steps forward, looks up at Gladiolus. 

The latter feels like he hasn’t seen his eyes in years. Remembers how blue they were.

“I’ll come with.”

And that’s that.

...

It isn’t uncomfortable.

At least, not in the way one would usually think.

Because Gladiolus has seen Prompto’s body.

Has seen the way the freckles pooled in the small of his back and around the back of his neck.

He’s traced along the lean muscle the other had built up, had pressed his hands into countless sheets.

He’s wrapped his hands around the other’s calves, has rubbed them up and down, until the blond was breathing heavily, relaxed against him completely.

They didn’t tell Cor about that part.

It’s uncomfortable, because...

Gladiolus can’t figure out where he stands with Prompto anymore.

He can’t figure out where they go from here, he can’t figure out if Prompto needed his presence or actually didn’t, if Prompto was going to break again by just him being here, Gladiolus didn’t want to hear him crying again, Gods, it hurt, it hurt.

And Gladiolus feels like he can’t stay near Prompto, because whenever he looked at him his heart felt too tight in his throat, too heavy, too much, it reminded him of too much.

But he forces himself to stay. Amicitia, Amicitia. Don’t be afraid.

He can feel their backs press against each other, the water makes Prompto’s skin warm, Gladiolus forces the tears back again.

He finally straightens up, turns around. Touches Prompto’s shoulder as gently as he can.

“I’ll...do your hair.”

The blond nods, his eyes drift to the side. Gladiolus takes the nearly empty shampoo bottle from the shelf.

...

_ “Can you tell me what we’re doing again?” _

_ “Shh!” _

_ “Great.” _

_ Gladiolus thinks of how he got here, hiding behind this hedge in the middle of a neighborhood in the middle of the night. _

_ It had started with a phone call, him sitting up in his bed, blearily checking the screen and his heart jumping when he saw the prince’s name, answers it, hears him whispering into the phone. _

_ “You know that kid I helped in middle school?” _

_ “Uh.” Gladiolus thinks of the training session immediately. “Yeah?” _

_ “Well, his name’s Prompto, we’ve been talking, and I’ve just learned his parents are never around.” _

_ “Um, okay, wait-“ _

_ “We’re going, Gladio.” _

_ “Oh, Ramuh.” _

_ And now they were here. With the prince goading Gladiolus to ring the doorbell. To scare the living daylights out of this Prompto guy. _

_ And Ignis wasn’t helping. Gladiolus could see him subtly nodding along. Why isn’t he using his rational side at the same time as Gladiolus?  _

_ “Okay, alright.” _

_ And he walks up the stairs, parks himself in front of the door, presses the bell. _

_ Ding-dong! _

_ And then, he hears feet pounding on the floor tiles. _

_ Then the door opens. _

_ Freckles across the bridge of the nose, that’s the first thing Gladiolus sees. Flowing blond hair. Still in his school uniform and he wears bracelets. His eyes were blue, like the sky when the clouds were just the right size. _

_ Prompto, if that’s his name, obviously was expecting someone nearer his height, because he stares into Gladiolus’s chest, blinks twice, and looks up. _

_ Gladiolus could literally see his face go pale, his eyes widen immeasurably. He clears his throat. _

_ Gladiolus says his line, one that he may have just rehearsed a few seconds ago. “Have you been talking to the prince of Lucis?” _

_ He can see the other’s life practically flash before his eyes. His voice was higher, a tenor. “Uh, yeah, yeah I have been.” _

_ Gladiolus stands up straighter, then crosses his arms. “Prepare for punishment.” _

_ The blond practically goes bug-eyed. _

_ Gladiolus waits a beat, then another, then he steps forward. _

_ Something soft collides with him from behind, blue dust envelops his body, and the prince materializes on Gladiolus’s back. _

_ And the prince throws Prompto a peace sign. “Hey.” _

_ And then Ignis appears at Gladiolus’s elbow, sighing. _

_ Prompto stares between the two people he doesn’t know, and his eyebrows are climbing higher and higher on his head, and even though Gladiolus had said long ago that the prince had to run any new friend through them, he looks at Prompto now, and can only see genuineness. _

_ “This,” Gladiolus feels a pat on his shoulder. “Is Gladio.” _

_ Out of the corner of his eye, the prince does the same for Ignis. “This is Iggy.” _

_ And Prompto nods carefully, still looking between them, and Gladiolus could tell he was still wary. _

_ But the prince jumps off of Gladiolus’s back, walks over, puts his hands in his pockets and a smirk. “You don’t mind if we crash here, right?” _

_ And Prompto stiffens up and then runs backwards. “Oh, um, then I should get something to eat for you guys, right, uh, be right back!” _

_ And then he disappears, presumably to the kitchen, but Gladiolus makes his way past the prince, ready if, even if Prompto seemed harmless, to guard the prince. _

_ And the prince didn’t seem to mind, but he looks up at Gladiolus with a question in his eyes. He’s asking, is Prompto okay? Do you like him? _

_ Gladiolus gives him a smile. Yeah, I do. _

...

The blond’s eyes slip closed as Gladiolus rubs the shampoo into his hair, hoping he wasn’t too rough. Prompto’s head moves as Gladiolus continues to run his hands through his hair, and Gladiolus can’t help but just look at him as he does it.

Then he steps back, watches as Prompto returns to under the spray, pushes his hair out of his face and the foam disappears down his body.

Gladiolus’s chest aches.

Prompto brushes his hair back with his hands, and opens his eyes again. They land on Gladiolus. “Your turn,” the blond says.

Gladiolus thinks, for a moment, that he doesn’t like hearing Prompto’s voice like this, how calm it was. It barely even sounded like him.

He dips his head down, lets Prompto put his hands on him this time.

...

_ Okay, this was starting to be a problem. _

_ And Gladiolus was not intending on it to be one. _

_ Frustrated, he punches the dummy harder than usual, it nearly comes back and smacks him in the face. _

_ Gods, just stop, stop thinking about it! _

_ He still thinks about it. _

_ Thinks about when the prince had teased him, how Gladiolus tackled him, how they toppled out of the chair and onto the floor and Gladiolus’s face was right over the prince’s and his hands were on either side of his face, and his eyes were so blue, so blue, his hair covered the right side of his face, and Gladiolus actually stared at his lips for a full two seconds. _

_ Yeah, and why is he thinking about that now, it wasn’t even awkward, he just tickled the prince for a minute long and found himself grinning because the prince’s laugh is nice- _

_ Wait, no, stop, stop thinking like that. _

_ He punches the dummy again. _

_ Socks it repeatedly, tries to beat out that image of the prince under him, how he had looked up at Gladiolus, his eyes were wide, he was startled, he was there so fresh in Gladiolus’s mind, it was like he was actually there and oh, Gladiolus didn’t want to punch the prince, he wanted to protect him- _

_ And the dummy clocks Gladiolus in the nose. _

_...ow. _

_ And as Gladiolus checks himself in the mirror and sees his nose bleeding, he’s glad there wasn’t anyone else in the training room right now. _

...

Prompto’s hands rest on Gladiolus’s face.

Gladiolus doesn’t open his eyes. He stays still as possible. The chasm in his stomach is wide, he doesn’t think it could be filled. Every moment they’re having right here widens it, loving Prompto hurts.

He has to remain strong.

Prompto presses their foreheads together. Gladiolus thinks that the blond probably had to stretch up on his toes to do that.

The other’s hand comes to close around Gladiolus’s wrist. He finally opens his eyes and looks down, sees the black lines across Prompto’s wrist, the lines that he’s hid for the first twenty years of his life.

And he closes his eyes. Begs inwardly for Prompto not to cry. He’s not sure if he could take it anymore.

But Prompto has hidden for so long. He’s hidden in fear, in the dark, never knowing if he’ll be left behind.

So Gladiolus lets Prompto dig his nails into him, lets him cry again, lets him let out all his pain, right here under the running water that gets colder, and Gladiolus can feel that chasm in him stay open. It won’t close. Forever, and ever.

...

_ When the sword is knocked out of Gladiolus’s hand, he knows he’s fucked. _

_ Oh, he’s so, so fucked. _

_ And he prides himself on not swearing. And so does Ignis. Swearing is proper, always proper, only swear when it’s really, really bad. _

_ But oh, he’s so fucked. _

_ The prince twirls his sword in his grip, stares at Gladiolus’s on the floor, and he looks at Gladiolus with an expression that screams, “Explain.” _

_ And Gladiolus just. Raises his hands. Shrugs. Totally cool. _

_ The prince squints at him. _

_ Gladiolus steps towards his weapon, slowly, but the prince beats him to it, using his foot to pull it towards him and behind him. _

_ It clatters along the floor. _

_ The prince glares at Gladiolus again. Explain. _

_ “It is not that easy to beat you.” _

_ “I just remembered I have to help Iris with something.” _

_ The prince’s sword falls to the floor, and he’s stepping over it.  _

_ Gladiolus is well aware he is a terrible liar. _

_ And that for the first time in his life, he’s the one backing up as the prince continues to advance, his gaze sharp. _

_ Gladiolus looks behind him. There’s the wall.  _

_ The prince doesn’t stop, and eventually Gladiolus is pressed right up against it. _

_ And he can’t look anywhere but the prince’s eyes. Blue, blue, blue. _

_ The prince’s hands come to either side of Gladiolus, palms flat against the wall. _

_ “Will you explain, now?” _

_ What exactly was he supposed to explain? _

_ He stares at the prince’s eyelashes, how they fan across his cheeks. At his hair, Gladiolus wants to touch it. _

_ Oh, fuck. _

_ “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” _

_ The prince steps forward even more, and their chests are pressed against each other. Gladiolus stops breathing. _

_ The prince blinks, once, slowly. _

_ “You do know.” _

_ He’s warm. So warm. Gladiolus could feel his chest, how it expands from breathing. Can feel every nerve in him spark. _

_ “I-I don’t.” _

_ He’s stuttering. Why is he stuttering? _

_ Can his mind work for once? This prince - he’s supposed to marry someone royal. Someone who’s a girl. Not someone who will be his Shield, anyone but his Shield. Why is Gladiolus deciding now to catch feelings? For him, for Ignis, for Prompto?  _

_ Or was he just suddenly so messed up for remembering how they all ended up that one night at the prince’s apartment, barely in their sleeping bags, their shoulders touching and their breath mingling, and that he’s imagining all this? _

_ The prince keeps looking at him. _

_ Gladiolus is fighting himself. Amicitia, Amicitia, Amicitia.  _

_ I’m an Amicitia, this isn’t what I’m supposed to do. _

_ But he looks down. Looks down at the prince’s lips. How soft they looked. How bitten they were, from years of the same habit when he concentrated on assignments. _

_ It was too long of a moment, and Gladiolus knows that the prince saw it. _

_ He saw it, Gods, it’s over. He’s gonna be told on, he’s going to be thrown out into the streets, he’ll be a complete disgrace to his family- _

_ He can hear the prince’s breath stop in his chest too. _

_ Chances a look at his eyes. _

_ They were tilted down. They were looking at his. Right back at his mouth. _

_ Is his heart still beating? Or is it pounding fast enough that it feels still? _

_ And then, the prince puts a hand up to Gladiolus’s cheek. _

_ A moment of silence. The prince doesn’t look away from Gladiolus. He never blinks. Gladiolus keeps blinking, and finally his eyes close as the prince leans in. _

_ Their kiss lasts five seconds. _

_ Five total seconds, their lips pressed against each other, and Gladiolus can only hear a roaring in his ears, can feel his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, his hands clenching at his sides. _

_ It lasts five seconds, because Gladiolus finally gets his mind to work. _

_ And he shoves the prince away. _

_ Enough force, that he falls backwards onto the floor, and Gladiolus thinks of the countless times he’s done that to the prince, but it was never after this. Never. _

_ And Gladiolus can’t speak, can’t tell the prince whatever he’s feeling, because he doesn’t know what he’s feeling, he can’t say it, he’s scared. _

_ The prince looks up at him, and he presses his fingers to his lips, like he’s remembering how Gladiolus felt against him and Gladiolus doesn’t need to do the same because he feels the heat that stayed, it tingles on his mouth. _

_ And Gladiolus grasps at the strength he has left, anything that’s left, to run. _

_ He runs, he doesn’t even pick up his sword, he runs for the doors and he bursts out of them, nearly crashing into a maid, says sorry but she probably didn’t hear it, and he didn’t care enough, and he runs, farther, farther, away from that prince and that training room. _

...

“Do you want to go to Tenebrae?”

Gladiolus sits on the bed he’s never slept in. He can’t quite look at Ignis, who is behind him, slowly cleaning his visor with a cloth.

Maybe it’s years of being attuned to Ignis’s presence that lets him know Ignis stops. Puts the cloth down. His voice is cracked from disuse. 

“Tenebrae?”

“Cor got a ride for us. Said it was for healing, for good luck.”

_ “Isn’t that the Oracle’s place?” _

_ “Yes. He would like to bring the prince there, for healing, for good luck.” _

Gladiolus clenches his hands in one another.

Ignis doesn’t speak in the longest time. So long, in fact, that Gladiolus doesn’t think the other even heard the last thing he said.

When he eventually speaks, it’s with a sigh that seems to sink through the bones, to Gladiolus’s very core.

“Alright.”

...

_ “Stop avoiding the prince.” _

_ I’m too busy avoiding you too, Gladiolus thinks as he turns the corner, trying to not think about Ignis’s brilliant green eyes staring into his back. You, Prompto, and him. _

_ It’s been going on for four days now. The second training stops, Gladiolus is out the door, immediately side stepping every attempt the prince did to get him to stop, which included hitting him in the back with a wooden sword, thank Astrals it wasn’t a real one, a lot of yelling from behind, and one time, a hand grab. _

_ Gladiolus thinks about that hand grab more times than he wants to say. _

_ This is the longest in a day he holed himself up in his room, ignores Prompto’s phone calls, and tries not to think about any one of them. How could this have happened to him? Why? _

...

Tenebrae is different.

With the darkness sealing all light off, the sylleblossoms the kingdom was known for have all nearly died off. The few thousand of them left were prioritized, kept alive by borrowed light in Lestallum. They had begun to plant them again, as the sun has returned, and Gladiolus looks at the saplings in front of him, remembers years ago, a wheelchair, a smile he hasn’t seen in ages.

He turns his head up the path, sees Ignis and Prompto. The blond was squatting down, watching the budding flowers. Ignis stands up straight, Gladiolus could see his lips move from here. He wonders what he’s talking about.

He watches them from afar, watches how their heads get closer, watches how their hands finally intertwine.

He wishes this wasn’t the first time Prompto saw Tenebrae.

He walks away from them then. 

He finds Iris inside. On the balcony, looking over the fields, some places brown and others becoming a faint green. She stands there alone, until Gladiolus joins her, together they look over the valley.

Gladiolus can only stare at the view for so long, remembering, wishing, dying, before he nearly runs to the bathroom, locks himself in a stall, digs his nails into his skin again and telling himself Amicitia, Amicitia, Amicitia, Amicitia.

Amicitia.

Amicitia.

He has to repeat it more.

Amicitia.

...

_ He finds himself in his father’s study. _

_ “Father, tell me something different.” _

_ He needed something to hold onto. Prompto had nearly seen him the other day if he hadn’t gotten his hood up and jogged away, feeling stupid and afraid. _

_ His father raises an eyebrow. _

_ “About being an Amicitia?” _

_ “Yes.” _

_ “Well...” The other man leans back in his chair, his hands clasp together, he thinks.  _

_ “You understand that names hold power. When you invoke your name, you understand that duty calls. You protect your prince, your king, in the name of Amicitia.” _

_ “...thank you, Father.” _

_ It wasn’t the answer he sought, but he takes it to heart. Keeps it safe. _

...

_ He thinks he’s safe. Ignis stops trying to corner him. The prince never attempts to stop him from leaving. Good, because Gladiolus can actually get a grip on his feelings now. _

_ And then his phone rings. _

_ When he picks it up- _

_ It’s Ignis calling. _

_ Ignis never calls. _

_ Gladiolus presses it to his ear without a second thought- _

_ “Gladio!” _

_ He was shouting. The Shield almost immediately jumps up from his seat. _

_ “Iggy?” _

_ Why did he sound panicked? _

_ “It’s-it’s-“ _

_ Then there’s a shout in the background, something crashes- _

_ Gladiolus hears his prince cry out in pain. _

_ “Where are you?!” _

_ “His apartment-hurry-“ _

_ He’s already running. _

...

_ The door’s already open when he gets there, so he’s pulling his greatsword from the Armiger, and rushes in. _

_ There’s no one, but the prince’s form on the floor, sprawled out. _

_ Gladiolus races towards him, but then suddenly he’s knocked off balance, because someone’s jumping on his back, and he’s immediately grabbing at that person, ready to smash them into the floor, when he sees glasses, and manages to stop himself just before he knocked him out. _

_ But Ignis’s head still bounces off the floor as he’s slammed into it, he shouts in pain, and Gladiolus is already cradling him, saying sorry, fuck, sorry- _

_ But then there’s a flash of blue light in front of him, so fast that Gladiolus doesn’t see it coming, and then he’s being forced back- _

_ The prince was straddling him. He wasn’t unconscious. _

_ He presses Gladiolus’s hands into the floor, and his gaze is absolutely burning. _

_ “Don’t you dare run this time.” _

_ His face was absolutely burning. Ignis was a distraction? A trap? _

_ And the prince presses their foreheads together. _

_ “Do you like me?” _

_ And Gladiolus can’t find anything to say, he just closes his eyes, doesn’t try to think, and when the prince kisses him, he doesn’t push him away. _

_ He lets him stay. _

...

Gladiolus doesn’t stay with Ignis and Prompto, even in Tenebrae. 

But before he leaves, he pauses with his hand on the door.

Something about seeing this place again, seeing it begin again, seeing it heal itself as it heals others, something in him compels him to speak. 

There wouldn’t be another chance to let them know.

“Ignis, Prompto.”

He can feel their eyes on him, even in Ignis’s case, he forces himself to meet them.

“Everything that happened after Altissia...”

He looks at Prompto, still remembers him stumbling and catching himself on the train seats when Gladiolus pushed him away by the face, the look of hurt on his face.

He looks at Ignis, remembers the cool of the lake they stood in, the anger on his face, his eyes were closed but they burned into Gladiolus’s soul.

“I’m sorry.”

Both of them shift. Both of their mouths move. They ghost over the words, “What for?”

And both of them realize what he meant.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Ignis whispers.

“I wanted to,” Gladiolus replies.

And he leaves. He realizes he always does. He always leaves. Would they ever stop him?

...

“ _ Do you still like the princess?” _

_ “Yeah.” _

_ He says it without hesitation. Gladiolus’s chest tightens. _

_ “Then what am I?” _

_ The prince sits up. His hand leaves Gladiolus’s, it curls into a fist. _

_ Gladiolus doesn’t look away from him. Knows him well enough that he knows the prince is looking for an answer. _

_ But what comes out of the prince’s mouth, when he faces Gladiolus, is a question. _

_ “Do you like Ignis?” _

_ “Uh, yeah?” _

_ “No, do you...” _

_ The prince makes a vague gesture. “... _ Like _ Ignis?” _

_ Gladiolus gapes at him. Was this a trap? Could it be a trap? What was he supposed to answer? _

_ He looks away from the prince. But he clears his throat. “Yeah. I...yeah.” _

_ “I figured. And you like Prompto, too.” _

_ “....yeah. It’s weird, right?” _

_ Astrals above, Gladiolus hates when he blushes. He feels like his whole face is on fire. He nearly startles when the prince grabs his hand again. _

_ “It’s not. And even if it is, I’m weirder.” _

_ Gladiolus looks up to see the prince smiling, almost self-deprecatingly. _

_ “I like Luna. She makes me happy, every time I see a message from her I smile like an idiot. I don’t know if I will ever see her again. I like Ignis. He’s been by my side this whole time, and hasn’t left. I like Prompto. He’s funny, he’s silly, he makes me laugh. And I like you, Gladio. I like you and you know exactly how to keep me moving, you get me out of my head a lot.” _

_ He puts a hand over his eyes, and Gladiolus realizes with a start that he was crying a little. _

_ “My dad is already going through so much. All day, all the time. There’s so many things I want to do if it meant he could hang out with me again. The more we’re apart, the more I feel like it won’t change, and things are happening outside the Wall and things are happening with me and you and Iggy and Prom and I don’t know how I could tell him. Would he understand me?” _

_ Gladiolus reaches. And holds him. _

_ He holds him tight. _

...

He doesn’t sleep. He does sit-ups in the training room. He looks around, and he could still see plenty of Imperial influence.

He leaves it then, walks through the hall.

He thinks he’ll go outside, but he sees the guards stationed at the palace doors.

It’s not that they would stop him. There’s no more terrors in the nighttime.

Gladiolus just doesn’t want them to worry.

So he goes back up the stairs before they spotted him, opens the training room windows, scales the roof, drops down the ledges.

A guard passes just below him, and then he lands, quietly.

Finds one of the paths, and walks it.

...

_ A lot of things happened on Gladiolus’s twentieth birthday. _

_ The first thing being the tattoo. _

_ The fierce expression of an eagle painted on his chest, its wings on his back. Its feathers like markings twining around his wrists. _

_ He had spent several days at the parlor for it, skipping training for it, thankfully had managed to convince the prince he wasn’t avoiding him again. _

_ He just wanted it to be a surprise. _

_ And it was an amazing surprise. _

_ The prince had watched as Gladiolus took off his shirt for him, letting him see the back first, the wings spread wide, and then the front. _

_ Gladiolus could see it in the prince’s eyes as he zeroed in on the eagle’s head. _

_ And the prince launches himself at his Shield. Pushes him up against the wall, kisses him until they’re both breathless. _

_ “Is this what you’ve been hiding from me? These past few days? Your Shield tattoo?” _

_ Their foreheads are together and Gladiolus is groaning at the feeling of his prince rolling his nipple between his fingers. _

_ The next thing that happened was Gladiolus clinging to the other as the prince touched him for the first time, his release coming in liquid warmth through his jeans, him trembling in his prince’s arms. _

_ He was inexperienced, but gentle. Kissed Gladiolus’s ear. Rubbed the back of his neck. He was so gentle. _

_ For once in Gladiolus’s life, he felt protected right back. _

_ And the last thing was Gladiolus deciding that maybe he should just say it, at his evening birthday party, the prince had already agreed to it, they were both ready. _

_ He tells Prompto and Ignis how he felt. How the prince felt.  _

_ He stood there bare chested in front of them with a party hat, feeling ridiculous, feels more ridiculous when a blushing Ignis reveals that Prompto and him had their hands joined under the table, and that yes, they felt the same way and they were willing. _

_ Ignis was smiling when Gladiolus finally worked up the nerve to press their mouths together. _

_ And Prompto’s laugh tasted magical. _

...

It’s when Gladiolus sees a blooming, blue sylleblossom that he stops in his tracks.

Blue sylleblossoms were Princess Lunafreya’s favorite.

He gets down on his knees, next to it. It trembles a little, Gladiolus reaches out, touches it as carefully as he can.

This flower holds the history of the world in its roots.

It holds King Regis’s last stand against the Niflheim Empire. It holds Titan’s covenant, it holds Ramuh’s lightning blast. It holds the shrieks of Leviathan.

It holds Princess Lunafreya’s undying devotion. It holds Ignis’s sight, it holds Prompto’s secrets.

It holds Ardyn’s anger.

It holds Gladiolus’s love.

It holds The King Of Light’s name.

And Gladiolus can’t breathe.

...

_ “Hey, I’m sorry, it was an accident!” _

_ “You should have learned to never mess with me!” _

_ Gladiolus turns towards the sound of his prince’s voice, sees the glittering shard of glass in the drunken stranger’s hand. _

_ His feet move on their own. _

_ He pushes his prince back without a second thought. _

_ The slash burns, Gladiolus could feel the blood pouring, but thankfully, it didn’t get his eye. _

_ He grabs at it, bends over, but still sees as the man is rushed by several people, having seen what happened, they subdue him. _

_ Gladiolus is just glad his prince is safe. _

_ The mentioned man is grabbing at him currently, and when he sees what happened, his eyes are aglow. _

_ “What the fuck- I’ll end him-“ _

_ “No, don’t.” Gladiolus grabs at the prince’s sleeve, trying to blink through the blood. “It’s okay. I’m okay. He’ll get punished.” _

_ Ignis and Prompto are over him instantly, the former cradles his face and murmurs that the cut will scar, and Prompto looks worried out of his mind. _

_ “It’s okay,” Gladiolus says, his hands grip at them both. “It’s okay.” _

_ He’d do it all over again. He’s an Amicitia. _

...

He can’t breathe, Gods, why can’t he breathe?

He stares at the sylleblossom’s petals, how they seem to shimmer in the night air.

He digs his fingers into his scalp. Breathe, breathe.

...

_ “Father, what does it mean to be an Amicitia?” _

_ “Asking this for the journey to Altissia, I presume?” _

_ Gladiolus nods. _

_ His father smiles, proudly, at him. _

_ “An Amicitia’s life is the King he serves.” _

...

“Amicitia, Amicitia, Amici-“

...

_ The newspaper is where Gladiolus finds out about his father.  _

_ Among the fallen, King Regis and his Shield, Clarus Amicitia- _

_ He clenches it in his fist, it crumples under his grip. _

...

“Amici- _ fuck _ , Amicit-“

...

_ The King’s hands are in his hair. They stroke along his scalp. Under his chin. Across his lips. _

_ “Your dad too?” _

_ It’s the only time Gladiolus lets the resolve drop from his face, the only time he lets his grief show. Not in front of Iris, never in front of her. _

...

“Amicitia, Gods,  _ please- _ “

...

_ He looks at the new scar in the reflection of his phone. It still burns, but it’s a lesser pain than before. He wipes the blood carefully from his face. _

_ He remembers the one thing he thought when he faced Gilgamesh. _

_ The King was his sole purpose. _

...

“Amici-citi-Amici-“

He cries.

Cries into his elbows, cries and his stomach is a chasm, cries and no one’s there to hear him.

His name remains unfinished.

...

Cor kept true to his word.

The funeral was small. Modest. Quiet.

Gladiolus sees Iris and Talcott in the crowd. Cid, Cindy. Monica. Dino, who had no notebook in his hand. Aranea, her face was in shadow. Everyone who was left.

The King of Light’s retainers stand to the side of his open coffin. They each have a blue sylleblossom on their lapels.

Gladiolus had looked at the King’s face only once this entire time. Thought about how beautiful he looked.

He and Prompto are quiet.

Ignis is the one who speaks.

“I met him when I was just six years old. He was almost four. He was so full of energy, I had a hard time keeping up at first.”

He takes in a breath.

“But he was always kind, and always patient. With an upbringing like his you would think he was spoiled. The only time I ever broke something of his was his dinner plate, I had dropped it. It couldn’t be salvaged. I’d dropped to the floor and apologized a thousand times. And he did nothing else but kneel on the floor with me to clean it up. He wasn’t even angry.”

Ignis pauses.

Holds his hands out to either side of him.

Gladiolus stares at it as it’s offered to him. He looks to Prompto. The blond looked just as confused, but he takes Ignis’s hand.

Gladiolus does too.

“Let it be no secret that I fell in love with him.”

Ignis’s voice rings out across the garden.

“I gave up my eyes for him. I would have turned my back on the world if it meant he would be here right now, smiling at us. I know it is selfish. It is the most selfish thing I could ever do. I’m not sorry for telling you.”

His voice cracks.

“He, like so many others, deserved to be happy.”

Ignis cries. Gladiolus sees the tears coming down his face. He squeezes Ignis’s hand tightly.

“He wasn’t just a prince, or a king, or a savior to our Star. He was Noctis.”

Gladiolus closes his eyes.

Ignis lets go of his hand, so he opens them again.

Prompto and Ignis have their heads tilted towards him. 

He is to speak next.

Gladiolus stands in the middle. Looks out across the faces. All familiar, all worn down from ten years of constant fear.

“I was his sworn Shield, as an Amicitia. Every time in battle, I would be in front. I’d take any blow.”

He holds his finger up to his face.

“Both of these scars, I got them for him. They’re a part of me now, an imprint on my body. Whenever I look at them I would remember I would give my life before I ever let anything happen to him.”

He looks down at his feet.

“Yes. I loved him too. I loved him more than a brother. I loved him more than anything I’d ever known.

...and I don’t know what to do now.”

The King was his life purpose.

Did he even have a purpose now?

“Don’t let...”

He can’t say his name. He can’t say the King’s name, he can’t.

“Don’t let the King down. He died for everyone.”

_ Not...not me. _

Gladiolus steps back, Prompto steps forward.

He tries his best to smile.

“It...It was because of Princess Lunafreya I met Noct.”

A muted gasp through the audience. Gladiolus and Ignis both look towards the gunner at the same time.

“Yeah. I saved her dog, Pryna. And in return, she sent me a letter. She said thank you, asked me about Noct, like she assumed I was a friend of his. So I just thought, yeah, I’ll be his friend.”

Prompto takes something out from his pocket. A creased letter, it looked worn. Thousands of creases under his fingers.

“I keep the letter with me. I remind myself every day that it happened. That I loved him, he loved me. That he loved me even after he found out I was magitek.”

He hiccups a little.

“That’s all I really wanted to say. Just wanted to let you know I’ll always be thinking of him, and what he did for us.

Rest in peace, Noctis.”

And he steps back.

It was done.

...

_ “I get it, alright? I get it!” _

_ A fist in his collar, forcing him back. Tears in the King’s eyes. So many tears. _

_ He runs. _

_ Prompto goes after him, but Gladiolus stops him. _

_ Why did he stop him? _

...

Everyone had a flower in their hand.

Some of them roses. Some of them lilies. Even irises, gladioluses.

Gladiolus lets the flower he’s named after flutter down onto the wood.

It spreads out across the coffin, as if it will still protect.

Gladiolus stares at it, until Ignis nudges him. 

They take out the sylleblossoms in their lapels.

And they drop them onto the coffin together.

Cor leads them through a prayer. Gladiolus keeps his eyes closed. He can’t quite focus on what he’s saying.

He only hears, “Thank you, our King of Light.”

He’s given a shovel.

...

_ “Stay calm, Noct. I’m as concerned for Prompto as you are.” _

_ Gladiolus wants to punch something. Fuck, he wants to punch something. _

_ Gods, he regrets it. He regrets, he regrets, he regrets, Prompto’s hurt is so clear in his eyes, why did he push him? The King was crying on the other side of the phone, why did Gladiolus yell at him? _

...

They stayed by the gravestone through the entire night. Sitting on the dirt, staring at the numbers 735, 765. 

When they leave, Cor doesn’t take them back to the hotel.

He takes them to the apartment.

They stand there, on the threshold.

Everything’s still intact.

There were plenty of boxes from where they packed them, for the Citadel. When he was supposed to come back after getting married. When he was smiling, because he was getting what he wanted.

The picture of them on his wedding day would have sat right on that dresser.

Gladiolus nearly breaks.

Nearly.

Holds the tears back just barely.

Ignis and Prompto both sob.

...

_ Saving Prompto was worth it. _

_ It was worth it a million times over. _

_ He holds him when they stake out in the Imperial bunker. _

_ The blond hides his face in Gladiolus’s shoulder. _

...

Cor offered to take them back, his concern evident on his face.

But Ignis and Prompto both shook their heads.

So Gladiolus shook his too.

They lie on the floor. The clock had stopped working, but Gladiolus could estimate it was around three in the morning.

They smelled of grass and dew. 

Prompto whispers something, offhandedly.

“I don’t know if I ever told you this, but Ignis’s mug was actually broken by him.”

Ignis sighs.

“And he blamed you?”

“Bingo.”

Their laughter was muted.

...

_ He’s gone. He’s gone. _

_ Gladiolus drives his greatsword into Ardyn’s back. _

_ He’s gone, why is he gone? _

_ Black liquid trails from the chancellor’s eyes. He gives him a bloody smile. _

_ Where is he? Where’s the King? _

_ Please. _

_ He doesn’t know what to do without him. _

...

They fall asleep there.

At least, Ignis and Prompto do.

Gladiolus stares up at the ceiling.

Feels his heart lay heavy in his chest. He doesn’t think he’s smiled in the longest time. He’s glad that Ignis and Prompto finally can. 

They’re going to be okay. They could move on.

He doesn’t think he could.

Every time he closes his eyes, he just sees him.

Him, always him.

...

_ Every day, or now, every night, they wish for him back. _

_ Gladiolus stops shaving his hair. _

_ He holds Ignis in his arms, in the cabin that’s now a rest stop.  _

_ Buries himself in Ignis’s scent. Comforts himself on the fact that they were both sworn to the King, that they’ll get through this together. _

_ But he clings to Ignis especially because he feels so lost, and Ignis came from the same place he did, but he never faltered. Not once. All he can see is the dark, and he isn’t afraid of it anymore. _

...

There’s nothing left for Gladiolus.

His journey ended here.

He’s breathing air that he shouldn’t have.

He’s a waste of space.

He’ll end it. He promises himself.

...

_ How could someone whose entire destiny was to die be so beautiful? _

_ The King walks towards them, ten years older, his hair is down to his shoulders. _

_ He’s older, he’s beautiful, Gladiolus wants to touch him. _

...

They stay in the apartment. Unpack the boxes. They bring their things from the hotel.

Gladiolus thinks it’s because they feel the most at home here, even if looking at any spot of it hurts. It hurts, but it’s home.

The electricity comes back, Ignis cooks again.

Prompto’s grin is bright.

Gladiolus looks outside at the car Cor gave them.

...

_ “Gladio.” _

_ His name sounds different coming from those lips again. _

_ The King holds him by the head.  _

_ There’s tears in his eyes. _

_ He kisses him again. _

_ “Why do you have to go?” _

_ The King smiles sadly, so sadly. _

_ “I gotta save the world.” _

...

Gladiolus leaves in the dead of night.

Drives on, and on, and on. Pushes the car until it nearly breaks. Laughs with no humor at the thought of pushing it to Hammerhead by himself.

The second day, he goes even faster.

They’d be looking for him now.

He makes it to the cliff by midday. The same cliff where he and the King dropped, he had just managed to pull him up. The same place where Titan was at the bottom, under the asteroid.

He stares over the edge.

He thinks of the letter he wrote.

Dear Prompto and Ignis, I love you. I love you so much. Live safe and happy.

Dear Iris, I love you, little sis. You’re gonna go places.

Dear Talcott, you’re growing stronger every day. Keep fighting.

Dear Cor, thank you for everything you’ve taught me.

Thank you, everyone.

His feet toe the edge.

And he jumps.

The wind races past his ear, it deafens him, his stomach’s doing somersaults.

The ground is rushing up to meet him, he closes his eyes.

...

But suddenly, they’re open.

He stares out at a lake. It ripples slightly. A broad expanse of sky.

He’s there.

The prince, the King, his love. He’s here.

“Noctis,” Gladiolus breathes. “Noct,  _ Noct- _ “

“Stupid Gladio. You’re so stupid. You’re so stupid, stupid-“

Noctis turns to face him. There’s tears in his eyes. His form flashes through several versions of him. The child who still smiled, the one who didn’t, the middle schooler, the high schooler, the one who said  _ sharp erryday _ , the one who grit his teeth when he learned his father died, the one who told Gladiolus to  _ walk tall _ . He’s beautiful, he’s so beautiful.

“You really are an idiot.”

“Noct, I’m here, together with you-“

“No,  _ you’re not _ , I won’t let you-“

Gladiolus steps forward. “I was your Shield, I would have given my life for you, without you I am nothing-“

Noctis shakes his head.

“No! You’re  _ not nothing! _ You’re Gladio, you’ve always been Gladio. Don’t you see the problem?”

He spreads his arms, clenches his fists.

“You never got the chance to be you. You never had the chance to be anything but be by my side. To tell me where I’m going. You were just a part of me. How is that fair to you?”

He’s crying. Gladiolus sees him crying. He takes another step forward. “I never wanted anything else.”

“Then want it! I know you’ve always wanted to protect me for the rest of your life, but I’m not here anymore. It’s up to you now.”

Noctis’s gaze turns to steel, sharp, hot steel.

“That doesn’t include you dying.”

Gladiolus is crying too. His vision blurs, he reaches out towards him.

Noctis grabs him too, presses their foreheads together.

“How am I supposed to go on without you?” Gladiolus sobs. “You’re everything to me.”

“You will, Gladio. You’re gonna figure it out, you always do.”

Noctis runs a hand through Gladiolus’s hair.

“It’s not your time. It won’t be your time, not now.”

He smiles, and he glows. He’s beautiful, he’s beautiful.

“I died so you could live. So you, Prom and Iggy could have a chance at life. To take your own path, to find happiness, to love each other until the end.”

He presses his hands to Gladiolus’s face.

“I died so you could live, don’t throw it away.”

“I, I love you, Noct- I’m sorry-“

“I know. I love you too.”

He kisses Gladiolus.

Pulls him in by the back of his neck, kisses him hard enough that he bleeds, kisses him until there’s light bursting behind his eyelids and he could feel the love that flows from Noctis, the love for him, the love for Ignis and Prompto, the love for Lunafreya, the love for the world he saved.

He kisses Gladiolus, and he pulls away. Wipes the tears from Gladiolus’s eyes.

And he smirks.

“You think you’re an Amicitia, but you’re a coward.”

And he pushes him.

Pushes him so hard Gladiolus feels something like the wind, it slams him to the side, into the cliffside, darkness flies over his face and he realizes he’s landing in a cave.

And his vision goes black.

...

He comes to several times.

The first time, it hurts.

His head feels like it’s split. His chest feels on fire.

He makes this sort of sound.

The second he does, he feels something move, realizes it’s a hand over his own, it tightens its grip.

“Gladio?”

Ignis’s voice.

It sounds like he was crying.

Gladiolus tries reaching out, but he can’t move.

It gets dark again.

...

The second time he’s awake, he hears rustling. Someone sniffling.

There’s a hand on his cheek, a thumb over his eyelids.

“We can’t, we can’t lose you too,” Prompto whispers. “Come back, come back.”

...

The third time, he feels his head in someone’s lap. A tug on his head, the snap of bristles.

They were brushing his hair.

There was a knot, but before it could hurt, a hand holds the strands underneath and the pain was gone.

The knot loosens, and he could feel the brush as it’s dropped onto his chest.

Arms loop around him, there’s the feeling of uneven skin.

“How long were you hurting?” Ignis asks. “How long haven’t we noticed?”

He can’t move his mouth.

It’s not your fault.

...

The fourth time, he can hear a pounding on the wall. It stops after about five seconds.

“Fuck,” Prompto shouts. “Why didn’t you talk to us? Gladio, fuck you,  _ fuck _ !”

It starts up again, then he hears the door open and he hears Ignis going, “Prompto,  _ stop- _ “

The sound of a struggle.

The door closes.

No more pounding.

...

He can finally speak.

Or at the most, move his mouth a little.

It’s exhausting. But he keeps repeating.

“Iggy, it’s not your fault. Prompto, it’s not your fault. Iggy, it’s not your fault. Prompto, ‘s not your fault...”

Can they hear him? Do they understand him?

A hand makes its way to his shoulder.

A voice he doesn’t expect.

“Is it mine?”

Cor sounds tired.

Gladiolus is trying his best to shake his head.

“No, no...”

A dry chuckle.

“I’ll still think it is, Gladiolus.”

His breath is shaky.

“Open your eyes soon.”

...

His eyes finally open.

He follows the light, blinking, trying to focus.

The lamp glows, Gladiolus recognizes it.

He’s in the medical room of the Citadel.

He looks around him. To the bookshelves. The door in the corner. Remembers.

He looks down.

Ignis is on his left, in a chair. His hand is around Gladiolus’s, he’s asleep while sitting straight. Prompto was on his right, and he wasn’t even in his chair. His cheek is on the back of Gladiolus’s hand, Gladiolus could hear his breathing.

Gladiolus looks at the two of them. Hears the clock ticking. Hears his heartbeat.

He looks at them, how they hold him close.

And when the tears come, he doesn’t have the strength to stop them anymore.

And he can’t muffle them either.

A whimper comes out of him, and Ignis and Prompto are both awake, their eyes widen and they’re reaching for him, and he cries and cries and he can’t help but think  _ thank you, Noctis, thank you. Thank you- _

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorr-“

“We thought we were too late. We thought you were gone, we saw your body there, we thought-“

Ignis is hiccuping, he wraps his arms around Gladiolus, holds him so tightly.

Prompto sobs, his shoulders shake, he holds Gladiolus’s hand in between both of his own. “Gods, don’t do that again, please don’t-“

“I’m not, I won’t, I promise,” Gladiolus cries, everything in him surges up like a tidal wave, everything he’s felt, all the memories he’s been having, all the tears he’s held back time and time again, because he had to be strong, he had to keep being Amicitia, but he realizes that he was being selfish, and he wasn’t alone, he was never alone-

He would never have seen Prompto getting a new car. He would have never seen Ignis open his own shop, he would never have had cup noodles there and he would have never seen Iris and Talcott grow up and he would have never realized that life was worth living when he comes home, he comes home to a movie playing and his future husbands curled up in the corner of their couch, and he’d scold them for stealing all the popcorn.

He would have never had all of this if Noctis didn’t give him a second chance.

Noctis made this possible. And Gladiolus nearly threw it away.

Thank you, Noctis, thank you.

...

_ What does it mean to be an Amicitia? _

_ That’s up to you. _

…

“It’s up to me.”


End file.
